


do you know?

by sleeponrooftops



Series: raising webhead: a parenting guide, attempted by the science boyfriends [51]
Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 23:04:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeponrooftops/pseuds/sleeponrooftops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter is out past his curfew again, and Tony’s had enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	do you know?

**Author's Note:**

> Notes —
> 
> i. I’m doing a one year time-jump in this one because I want Peter to be sixteen because I really just—I’m weird, and I don’t want to write him at fifteen with Johnny, so we’re jumping a year. Again, that means Peter and Flash are now sixteen, and Johnny is eighteen.

_One year later._

_November, 2025_

“Shit.”

 

Peter hits the floor, and Johnny groans, throwing the blankets from off his head, looking over blearily at the floor.  “Your phone’s ringing,” he mumbles, and Peter rolls his eyes.

 

“Very good.  Where are my clothes?”

 

“I dunno,” Johnny groans before flopping back onto the bed.

 

Peter swears, a continuous chant under his breath until he finally finds jeans, yanks out his phone, and takes a deep breath before answering it, “Dad, I—”

 

“I don’t care, come home,” Tony says flatly on the other line, and Peter squeezes his eyes shut.

 

“I didn’t mean to, I—”

 

“We _expressly_ told you to be home on time tonight.  This is the fourth time _this month alone_ , Peter.  Come home, _right now_.”

 

“Dad—”

 

“ _Peter_!”  Peter jumps a little, pulling his phone away to look at it in surprise.  They’ve never yelled at him, not once.  He’s gotten in trouble plenty, and they’ve had talks with him and been stern, but they’ve _never_ raised their voices, and Peter is a little afraid of what this means.  He brings the phone back up as Tony continues, “If you’re not home in ten minutes, _I will come get you_.”

 

“I’m on my way,” Peter rushes out before he hangs up and throws the phone at Johnny, who whines at him.  “My dad is going to show up in the Iron Man suit if I don’t leave.”

 

That gets Johnny out of bed, and he helps Peter gather his things, throwing clothes at him before he shoves the rest of his things in his backpack and waits for Peter to finish getting dressed before he kisses him and helps him into his jacket.  “I’ll see you later, yeah?” he says, and Peter shrugs.

 

“If I’m not dead.  Bye, love you,” he adds in a whisper, smiling and kissing Johnny a last time before he makes for the window.

 

“Love you, too, webhead,” Johnny says, already crawling back into bed.

 

Peter makes it home in twelve minutes, and, as he’s dropping down onto the sidewalk, the garage doors are opening, and Tony’s pulling out.  “Dad!” he yells, waving to him and running over.  This is even worse than him showing up in the suit, and Peter almost doesn’t want to go over to him.

 

Thankfully, Tony spots him, and he nods before backing into the sloping driveway again, the doors sliding shut behind him.  Peter waits until the doors are nearly closed before he sprints into the lobby, tries to take the elevator up, and then swears when it goes down.  “Don’t say a word,” Tony says when he steps in and hits one of the buttons.

 

“Dad, I’m—”

 

“What did I just say?” Tony shouts, not looking at him, and Peter falls silent, bowing his head.

 

When they get upstairs, it’s not to their floor, but to the lab, where Bruce is sitting on a chair surrounded by Tony’s monitors.  “Did you get him?” he asks, turning.  His face drops into a deep frown when he sees Peter, which only makes him shrink further, and he hates that he’s disappointed them to this point, hates that he let this happen.

 

“Sit down,” Tony orders, pointing at the futon, and Peter goes over to it obediently, shrugging out of his backpack and setting it on the floor.  He pulls his knees up and hides behind them, peering over so he can only just see them.  Tony goes over to Bruce, arms coming around his shoulders and face disappearing into his neck, and Bruce whispers something, leaning over to press a kiss to his temple before he rubs his arm, and then they’re standing and walking over.

 

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispers as they sit on either side of him.

 

“I want to show you something,” Tony says, calmer now, and Peter nods, not looking over at him.  He opens a tablet on his lap, punches in a command, and then a series of screens pop up in front of them, and Peter unfolds, looking at them in shock.  “You know there are cameras on every inch of this Tower, and all of the footage is stored in locked files.  Everything is there from the moment this thing was built, and nothing is deleted,” he pauses, pointing to the far left, “Those two are the times you snuck out to see Wade, this group is everytime you’ve snuck out to see Johnny, this one for Flash, this one for Gwen, and these are everytime you’ve let someone into the Tower after hours.  These are hospital files from individuals claiming to have been sprayed with some kind of spider web when they were attacked, these—”

 

“Wait,” Peter says, getting up off the futon and turning to glare at them, “Have you been _spying_ on me?”

 

“No,” Tony says, holding his gaze steadily and calmly, “The Tower runs on an intricate system.  Besides the cameras, Jarvis is set up to draw information from around the world, though primarily the state, in search of any kind of activity that might tie back to _any_ person with special abilities.  It is designed to look for flaws, in case someone is going rogue, or in case we might get an early warning of an attack.  You became part of that database the second you were bitten by that spider.  All of this is miniscule in comparison to the files that Jarvis keeps on the team, _on the X-Men_ , which is huge, but all of this, we already know.  We’ve known all of this everytime it happened, and we’ve trusted you, but the _disrespect_ you have been showing for your father and me over the past few months is unacceptable.”

 

“Oh my god, I was late four times this month, so what?” he says, crossing his arms and looking away.

 

“ _This month_!” Tony shouts, getting up.

 

“Tony,” Bruce says, reaching for him.

 

“And last month?  When you didn’t come home for two days?  When you didn’t answer your phone?  Peter, we thought something had _happened_!”

 

“Clearly not, or you would have known,” he snaps, gesturing to all the screens before he shakes his head, “I’m out of here, I’m not dealing with your _shit_.”

 

“Peter!” Bruce exclaims, standing.

 

Peter starts to turn away, but then Tony’s fingers are curling around his upper arm and he yanks him back, jerking him close until Peter has to tilt his head to meet his gaze.  “Dad,” he says, trying to break out of his hold.

 

“You’re grounded,” Tony says, his voice hard and unyielding, “You can’t go out, you can’t have people over, you can’t go in the lab, no technology, and I’ll have your shooters.”

 

“Dad!”

 

“ _Now_.”

 

“No, they’re—” he breaks off when Tony releases him and looks away.

 

He can see his hands shaking, and Peter blinks, stepping back.  He can hear Bruce’s voice in his head, cracking as he tried not to break, as he tried to keep his voice down so Tony wouldn’t hear, last month when Peter hadn’t gotten in trouble for not coming home, when they were just so glad he was okay, _“Do you have any idea how terrified we were that something had happened?  Do you have any idea what that did to us?  Peter, your—your father and I are unstable, and we always will be, but we’ve learned to work with—with the Hulk and with dad’s PTSD, but this is too much.  Do you know how lucky you are right now, to have parents who love you, who care about you, who just want you to be safe and happy?  Do you even know what Tony’s father used to do to him?  Do you know that he never told him he loved him, that he would drink and drink until he couldn’t remember hitting his only son, that Tony never said anything because he just wanted to make him proud?  Do you know what you disrespecting him, and me, looks like?  Do you know how hard he has tried to make you happy and safe and loved?  You can’t do this to us, Peter.”_

Peter swallows past the sudden lump in his throat before fumbling at his shooters, taking them off and handing them over.  “I, uhm—I have extra cartridges in my room.”

  
“You can give them to us in the morning,” Tony says quietly, “Just—please go downstairs and go to bed.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Peter mumbles before taking his leave, and Bruce goes over to Tony as he does, drawing him into his arms.

 

“It’s okay,” he whispers, holding him, “He’s safe.”

 

“I didn’t—I didn’t mean to yell at him,” Tony mumbles, pressing his face into Bruce’s neck.

 

“I know.  He knows.  It’s okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t mean for this to turn into a two-parter. I don’t mean for a lot of these fics to be longer than one, but alas. I didn’t even really mean for this fic to happen, it just kind of came out this way, so. The next one will be better, I promise. I know it’s been kind of chaotic lately, but Peter’s a teenager, I think that’s kind of to be expected. Anyway, don’t forget to leave your thoughts!


End file.
